


the only truth that i could see is when you put your lips to me

by sylvanxia



Series: a series of unfortunate backstories [1]
Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Bittersweet, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-10-12 09:14:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17464679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvanxia/pseuds/sylvanxia
Summary: IMPORTANTThe following documents contain, in chronological order, confidential events occurring after the schism detailing L. SNICKET’s disappearance and the relationship between K. SNICKET and D. DENOUEMENT. The origin of said documents is unknown, but frank and earnest nonetheless. Under no circumstances, shall they leave Heimlich Hospital's Library of Records or be read by any member of VFD besides the original author.





	1. PRELUDE:THE TAXI DRIVER

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Radiohead's Spectre, which I personally feel fits asoue perfectly. This story is also highly inspired by the Netflix series, Kit and Dewey were so cute omg I needed more! Enjoy!

The first snowfall of winter is a stressful occasion for all employees at Hotel Denouement. The electricians boast rosy cheeks from working through the night on the holiday lights. The chefs are scrambling to finish gingerbread themed concoctions and the concierge pianist is currently hyperventilating in preparation for a few hours of Swan Lake. 

The widespread stress phenomenon has failed to grasp Dewey in its frosty claws but that’s not to say he’s peaceful. Interacting with other people as though he’s Frank or Ernest brews a familiar mixture of exhilaration and panic underneath the lapels of his suit. Dewey quickly smoothes his palm across his jacket, neither Frank nor Ernest would be caught in a wrinkled suit in front of the staff. Although he wouldn’t be seeing many employees today, just a certain taxi driver.

It’s easy to forget Dewey Denouement when you compare him to valiant volunteers like Jacques Snicket. An upsetting idea has plagued Dewey ever since his first days as a volunteer. Jacques Snicket and the other volunteers work tirelessly to extinguish metaphorical and literal fires worldwide while Dewey hides amongst the shadows of books. He knows he isn’t useless; the library didn’t just create itself, but he doesn’t exactly help, does he?

Dewey sighs and decides it’s best to find Frank before K.S arrives. It’s not a hard task, all he has to do is follow the mass of green concierge to the lobby where Frank stands as a beacon of light in front of the clock. Frank’s eyes sparkle with pride as he compliments the concierge on the grandly decorated lobby. Dewey suppresses a grin as he weaves through the crowd, the employees are glowing looking thoroughly engaged and it’s all because of Frank. Frank has that admirable effect on people and it’s half the reason the Denouement Hotel is as successful as it is.

Frank meets his gaze and pointedly turns away before clearing his throat. He clasps his hands together and declares boldly, “Let’s get the lights up!”

The crowd cheers as they disperse, with the electricians chattering excitedly about this year’s color scheme. Dewey strides to catch up with Frank who hesitates and lets Dewey fall into step with him. 

The brothers walk side by side like clones, perfectly identical and yet so different. Frank’s tight-lipped with a clenched jaw complete with a stiff spine. An average person would not notice this for Frank’s expressions are minuscule enough for only those with a keen eye to catch. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, Dewey has always had a sharp gaze. He knows it’s not a regularity to see Frank so tense, and yet Dewey feels as if he’s seen it all his life. The persistent paranoia combined with the stubborn sullenness of not getting his way.

Dewey despises the silence, “We’re indistinguishable, no one will notice a difference.”

“Volunteers notice more than most.”

“And yet no one has noticed me before,” Dewey retorts, quickly continuing when Frank tries to interject, “besides I’ll return to the library immediately after.”

“Fine,” Frank grimaces but backtracks when he sees Dewey’s grin, “Show it to me.”

The envelope is neatly kept in his breast pocket, pristine and unopened. It looks rather plain and normal, especially for something that concerns important matters. Dewey discretely passes it to Frank. 

K.S. - Taxi 

Dewey runs his thumb over the ink. The initials along with the seemingly random word taxi are delicately written on the outside of the envelope in red ink. The smudged ink is almost illegible but the envelope itself is looking unharmed. Dewey Denouement knows one thing for certain concerning unharmed messages with smudged ink. 

The sender was most likely compromised. 

He would like to think the message was written quickly because the sender wanted to read a riveting novel as quickly as possible. Not because trouble spelled C-O-U-N-T O-L-A-F was just around the corner.

Frank purses his lips, “That’s it?”

“Well, yes,” Dewey replies uncertainly. Frank shoves the envelope back into his hands, eye twitching. 

“I can’t believe you’re willing to risk being seen over this,” Frank mutters. Dewey bites back his retort knowing Frank is as stubborn as a mule when he wants to be.

By now it’s almost sunrise which means it’s almost time for Hotel Denouement to open its doors after a weekend renovation. Orange and gold beams of light begin to blend beautifully into the sky, painting the silvery snow an array of warm colors. A bright yellow taxi pulls into the Denouement Hotel just as they reach the lobby

The bellboy rushes in frantically, looking hilariously terrified. He gestures towards the hotel door and babbles, “There’s a woman waiting outside and I told her we weren’t open but she wouldn’t listen and she wants to speak to one of you and I think she’s wearing a Halloween costume!”

Dewey eyes him, raising a brow, “Are you alright?”

The boy’s cheeks redden, “Sorry.”

Dewey turns pointedly towards Frank who scowls. He sighs, a combination of defeat and admirable stubbornness residing in the crease of his frown. “I’ll assist customer service with phone calls.”  
   
It’s an unrelated fact that customer service happens to be the optimal position if one wanted to spy on a strange woman outside. Frank seems to be aware of such facts as he subtly glances back at Dewey multiple times as he answers the phone. Dewey chooses to ignore him and follows the flustered bellboy.  
   
The costume, or gown rather, is absurdly hideous up close. Sections of cloth hang off in tatters of various plum colors. K.S has wisely chosen to hide her hideous gown under a dark coat and a portion of her face under a scarf.

He shakes her hand, “I didn’t realize how cold it was.”    
    
“It isn’t,” she replies, lips quirking into a half smile. “I’ve been told you have a message for me.”

“You’ve been told correctly,” he responds, pulling out the envelope.“How do I know you’re K.S?”

There’s a sharp glint of challenge in her eyes when she counters, “The same way I know you’re Frank, I don’t.”

“Touché,” he says, surprised. “I hope your delivery goes smoothly.”

“You and me both,” she mutters, shoving the envelope into her pocket. “Send my regards to Ernest.”

“Truly?”

“No,” she smirks, climbing into the taxi. “I’ll see you around Frank Denouement.”

Sudden desperation fills Dewey, causing him to reach for the taxi door to prevent it from closing. “I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”

K.S eyes him warily, biting her lip, “Kit.”

Dewey smiles, pleased, “Goodbye Kit.”


	2. ACT I: BLOOD IS THICKER THAN WATER

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> important interactions kit and dewey have with other asoue characters

I.

The Snicket siblings plus Beatrice are gathered in a little one bedroom apartment on the wrong side of Paltryville. It’s old and tired with cracked walls all wrapped up in an unflattering shade of light green. It’s truly horribly but beggars can’t be choosers and Lemony, she winces at the thought, is a fugitive.

Beatrice is silent at her side, features clouded with sadness. Her eyes are duller, Kit notes grimly, and her knuckles are bone pale as she fists her dress. Kit carefully tugs Beatrice’s free hand into her own, giving it a squeeze. 

“Stop it,” she murmurs, gently drawing circles on Beatrice’s palms. Beatrice slowly lets go of her dress. Kit catches Lemony eyeing Beatrice’s pale hand and decides to act.

Jacques catches Kit’s gaze and swiftly draws Lemony’s attention to the apartment. “What do you think?”

Lemony doesn’t hesitate, “It’ll do.

Lemony’s declaration is met with silence as Kit, Jacques, and Beatrice exchange glances. Lemony rushes to continue in an attempt to fill the silence. 

“I always thought green was a lovely color,” he offers but falters when he hears Beatrice sniffle. 

Lemony looks stricken, “Beatrice-“

Beatrice lets out a sob and rushes out the door. Lemony stands still, clutching a little black box.

Jacques looks stunned, "Were you going to-"

Lemony exhales, "I thought we could handle it."

Kit swallows and inhales as best as she can while her eyes burn. The air is filled with tension and so much emotion and she can’t breathe. How did things go so wrong? How did they end up here?

She feels someone tug her arm and meets Jacques pained gaze. He squeezes her shoulder and claps Lemony on the back, “I think it’s time we leave.”

Lemony’s eyes are glassy, “It’s likely I won’t be able to visit anymore.”

Jacques is silent as he steps up to Lemony and Kit can see how similar they look. Same sharp features and style. Lemony looks moments away from crying but Jacques expression is strong and unyielding.

“We will see you again, soon,” he states this as if it were an inarguable fact so Kit believes him. She plasters a smile of sorts as she envelops Lemony in a final hug.

If only they had known.

II.

The couch in the library that definitely does not exist underneath Hotel Denouement does not qualify as a bed. Nonetheless, Dewey is on the verge of falling asleep when something suddenly burns his skin. He yelps and shoots up, immediately tripping onto the floor. 

Dewey groans, “Must you hurt me so Ernest?”

Ernest looks only the slightest bit apologetic as he carefully picks up the pieces of the recently cracked mug. He waves the waning candle in front of Dewey’s face. 

“The electricity works perfectly well.”

Ernest hands him a towel and Dewey grimaces as he wipes the tea off his face. Ernest frowns, “Our presence should not be alerted to anyone.”

“I forgot how public our location was,” Dewey retorts, tossing the dirty towel at Ernest. 

Ernest ignores him as arranges his papers upon his lap. Dewey shuffles close enough to feel Ernest’s warmth and peers over his shoulder. 

“I suppose you aren’t tired?” 

Ernest hums and sets down his pen. He takes advantage of Dewey’s close proximity by inspecting his forehead, “Not even a bruise.”

“So you do feel guilty!”

“Only a little.”

Silence settles over them like a blanket, warm and comfortable. Dewey wants it to stay, to preserve it as long as he can, but he knows there’s far too many things they both want to say. 

Ernest knows this too, “I presume Frank is well?”

“He is,” Dewey confirms, “He would be better if you asked him yourself.”

The blanket is gone now, burned to ashes that leaves dust in their lungs and truth that brings goosebumps to his arms. Ernest stares at him, look more defeated and tired than ever. 

“I can’t,” he whispers, avoiding Deweys’ gaze, “Not anymore.”

“Why not? Why not try?” Dewey argues. Ernest has to listen, he just has to, “You tried with me.”

“I never betrayed you the way I did with Frank. It’s in both our best interests to stay out of each other’s ways.”

Dewey stays tries to say silent but as his eyes sting with tears he finally catches Ernest’s gaze, “Best interests or your damn pride?”

III.

The years should have dragged on without Lemony, time should have chained her up in sadness but it didn’t. Kit learns to stand on her own without Jacques or Lemony; Jacques is all over the place working in the field and Lemony could be on the ends of the earth for all she knew. A lovely postcard from his current hideout used to arrive monthly, she still has them in her bottom drawer, but her mail’s been empty for nearly a year. 

Kit is far from perfect but she feels strangely okay these days. Full nights of dreamless sleep and successful reconnaissance missions, life could be far worse for a volunteer. 

So Kit figures she can do this, one measly party compared to being undercover for months is nothing, right? 

Wrong. 

She smooths out the crumpled note, it’s written impeccably as per Beatrice’s usual standard. 

Dearest Kit,  
I’m so pleased to hear how successful your missions have been. I’m sorry I haven’t made an effort to visit you, but I needed space from everything that happened. It’s presumptuous of me to assume you still want to see me, I know it is. I need one last favor, please come visit me. I need to tell you something in person.  
Love, Beatrice

After Lemony’s disappearance, Kit threw herself into assignments while Jacques took as many undercover opportunities as he possibly could. Beatrice, however, had been inactive for a long time. It saddened Kit, Beatrice was Kit’s good friend as much as she’d been Lemony’s lover. Still, it was strange she decided to reach out after so much time.

The taxi pulls up to a beautiful apartment with lots of windows reflecting the sparkling sunshine. A little rose garden greets Kit as she rings the doorbell. She hears foot steps shuffle towards the door and then, Beatrice stands before her with a beaming smile.  
“Kit!”

Beatrice is glowing, her dark hair plaited neatly and her form looks fantastic in her sun dress. Except her palm is rubbing her belly…

Kit gasps, “You’re pregnant?”

Beatrice’s smile falters, “Yes, but Kit-“

“I can’t believe I’m going to have a niece!” Kit babbles, “Or a nephew, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to be an-“

Beatrice tugs her into the apartment and locks the doors. Kit’s gaze catches the ring on her fingers and her blood goes cold. 

“You’re married?”

There’s hesitation in her eyes but she answers nonetheless, “Yes.” 

Kit feels a familiar anger rush through her, only this time she doesn’t try to contain it. The resentful feelings towards Beatrice for Lemony’s plight slam her with full force. Lemony could be lying dead in a ditch all for her, and she’s moved on to someone else. Beatrice’s betrayal stings, burns, her skin and Kit can’t look at her anymore. 

Kit clenches her fists, she won’t lash out, she won’t, “How could you?!”

Beatrice’s eyes are glossy and pleading, but she doesn’t step back, as if Kit is the one being unreasonable, “I’m sorry, Kit.”  
Kit hates her, her and her soft whispery voice that doesn’t even try to fight back, hates her more than anything. She unclenches her fists, if Beatrice can keep her composure so can she. 

“He became a fugitive for you!” Kit grits her teeth, “He gave up everything for you!”

Beatrice bows her head, trembling, “I know. You have to believe me, I know.”

Kit scoffs and steps away as Beatrice starts to sob, “Goodbye Beatrice.”

She’s halfway out the door when she hears Beatrice whisper one last time, “Please.”

Kit doesn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments! Stay tuned for the next chapter, longest yet, where Kit meets Dewey!

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think in the comments. Have a lovely day!


End file.
